


In our Dreams

by Lakritzwolf



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Dreams, F/M, nekkid dwarves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 03:49:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8148199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakritzwolf/pseuds/Lakritzwolf
Summary: During their stay in Lothlorien, Gimly is haunted by dreams.





	

Gimli opened his eyes, but did not move. He felt unwell here amongst the elves, amongst these trees that seemed to have more life of their own than they should. These strange folk were looking down on him, not only because of his height, and he had chosen to withdraw at the earliest possible occasion. He had gone to sleep after lying awake for long, uneasy hours, haunted by the songs of elves, and worse.

He was haunted by _her_. 

Haunted by her voice, her eyes, her very existence, haunted in a way he could not even admit to himself. And now he was awake because someone had called his name.

A cautious glance around him told him his companions were all sound asleep, but even as he was about to close his eyes again, there was that voice again, calling his name.

_Her_ voice.

“Gimli, son of Gloin.” 

Gimli did not move, keeping his eyes firmly closed.

“Gimli, son of Gloin, will you not grant me one moment of your time? It is all I ask for.”

As he opened his eyes again, he realised none of the others seemed to have heard her voice, as they had not awoken. Grant her something? As if he, the lowliest of creatures in her eyes, would be in any position to grant her something? 

“Gimli, son of Gloin, I am waiting for you.”

That was more than he could possibly take. As soundlessly as he could, he crept out of his bed and left the tent that he shared with the others. No one took notice of his leaving as he dared not bother with putting on any armour or weapon.

He felt almost naked, dwarf that he was, without his armour and helmet, only in shirt and breeches, but following her voice, he could not even take the time to put on his boots. He could only hope no one would see him like this.

A white glimmer between the trees further ahead lured him on, and even as he knew he was falling into madness with following her like that, help it, he could not.  
The figure in white led him into a small grove, where a well pooled into a small pond encircled with fragrant flowers, bracken and moss so thick it dampened every footstep he made. Steps led down to the water, and there she sat, barefoot, clad only in the sparest of gowns, of a silk so thin that you hardly could call her covered. 

And she smiled at him.

“Sit here beside me, Gimli, son of Gloin. You need not be afraid.”

Even had he wanted it, there was no way he could disobey her voice. So he sat. To boot, it was easier sitting beside her, looking straight ahead, than standing where he could see her barely covered body. Much easier. He just needed to keep looking ahead. 

“Tell me, Gimli, son of Gloin. I have heard many rumours regarding the dwarven folk. And not all of them could I discern as true or false.”  
“What would you have me tell you, my lady?”

There was more than a hint of amusement in her voice. “Are your people really afraid of water, Master dwarf?”  
Gimli snorted, remembering too late in whose presence he was. He cleared his throat to cover his embarrassment. “No. We are not afraid of water, my lady. It is a simple precaution to be wary of that element. Dwarves are always heavily armoured, you see. Falling into a river or lake, we would doubtlessly sink like a stone.”  
“So it might be a good think that you wear no armour while sitting here beside the pond with me”, the lady replied with a smile. “Will you tell me another thing?”  
“I will.” He still dared not look at her.

“Is it true that not even you can tell the difference between a man and a woman dwarf? That you have to very tactfully find out of what gender another of your race is? I cannot imagine it being so.”  
“That, my lady, is not true, indeed. While dwarf women may not be any way like elven ones, they have their own beauty, albeit not as graceful a one as you and your kind, my lady.”  
“Graceful you think me? A woman who doubtlessly is to tall and frail for you? Or might it just seem so?”

Gimli still dared not to lift his eyes, but as he stared into the water, he realised he saw her mirrored image in the still surface of the pond. And the moment their eyes met, even only mirrored, he could no longer look away.

“The most beautiful and graceful being my eyes have ever behold, my lady. The fairest in all the lands. And whomever may say otherwise will feel the bite of my axe.” 

To this, Galadriel did not reply, but her smile was so radiant that Gimli felt something deep inside him begin to glow, as if there had been a core of stone in his soul that was suddenly melting under her glare.

“Glad I am to have a defender of my virtues as you, Master dwarf. Unexpected this is, but not unwelcome.”

Gimli muttered something under his breath, but fell silent when he saw, mirrored in the pond, Galadriel beside him lift a white and slender hand to rest it on his hair. He had to close his eyes as he felt her touch like the wing of a bird, and where she touched him, he suddenly burned. 

And then her hand was gone, leaving him feel cold. He opened his eyes again as he felt her move, and to his utter surprise, she slid off the stone stairs they were sitting upon into the water. As she emerged and stood on the stair right below him, her thin shift was clinging wetly to her body and concealed nothing anymore. Gimli felt his chest constrict as if he had been hit with a battering ram. 

“Take off what wears you down,” she whispered. “Leave all burdens behind and join me here in the water, for it will ease all weariness and heal all wounds.”

At this moment, for the very first time in his life, Gimli, son of Gloin, wanted to run away. To hide himself under a rock and never come forth into the sunlight again. But instead, as if his fingers were obeying another will than his own, he unbuttoned his shirt, undid his belt, and at last joined her, feeling the waters soothe his body with coolness in the warmth of the Lothlorien summer night. But even water as ice cold as a mountain stream would not have been able to quench his self-conscious embarrassment at being together with her in this pond of water, wearing naught but his skin.

“Master dwarf, grant me a boon.”  
“What could you possibly ask of me, my fairest lady?” He stared up at her in awe, the water reaching his shoulders where it came only to her navel.  
She smiled. “Never have my lips touched a face so proudly adorned with hair as yours. Will you grant me a kiss, Gimli, son of Gloin?”  
His mouth dry, he had to force himself calm. “Is this wise, my lady?”  
“No.” She seemed to almost laugh.” But who is here to question it, but us? Who is here to judge what is wrong or right than you and me? It is no one’s place to question whom you or me wanted to kiss but the one who shall receive said kiss. Is it not?”  
“And what... what about your lord?”  
At this, she smiled again. “Not his to question, either. We are Lord and Lady, ringbearers both and spouses since more years than we care to count. Yet this is one of the times he has no right nor the mind to question, nor would it be mine in his stead.”

“Ah. Uhm. I see.” Watching with a feeling of dread and something else entirely, something he could not name, as she knelt to be on eye level with him, Gimli, son of Gloin slowly felt his world fall to pieces.  
“I do not think...” he began, and saw that the smile on her face began to die with his words. But how could he possibly be kissing her? Her, of all women in the world? “I... I cannot consent... I mean...” He avoided her eyes, unable to look at her any longer. “I will not defile you with my lowly presence.”

She was silent. She neither moved nor spoke, and when he finally dared to look up again, he could see she was hurt. It was like a knife in his heart.  
Then she sighed, deeply, and seemed to take the knife at the hilt, twisting it round. 

“How can you, Gimli, son of Gloin, talk so lowly about something I hold in such high esteem?”  
Gimli blinked.  
“Do you really think I would desire something that is not worthy of me?”

He was caught. Caught in her eyes once again, and utterly and irrevocably lost in their depths. Mutely, he shook his head, words were eluding him. But at last, after long moments of silence, they burst out of him like water that broke the dam.

“You may do whatever you wish with me, fairest one.”

An almost childlike laughter pearled of her lips as she leaned forward, yet it was soft and deep, befitting one so young in appearance yet so old as her. His mortification melted away as their lips touched, and as her hands began to roam, his courage returned.

And for a small part of this night, Gimli, son of Gloin, was granted the greatest gift on earth he could ever have asked for. 

They parted smiling, and as Gimli was once again back in the tent, stepping softly past his snoring companions, he knew well he had been granted a gift beyond his wildest dreams, a thing he would never have dared to ask for. But given it had been to him, and willingly. 

But even as he was about to lay down, another voice called his name.

“Gimli!”

He shot upright, blinking heftily as he realised...

It had been a dream. 

“Gimli?”  
He looked up at Aragorn who had shaken him awake.  
“Hrm?”  
“Are you alright? You look spooked, friend.”  
“Spooked.” He got up with a grunt. “As I might well be in this place. Elves all around me. My dreams were terrible, Master Aragorn. Insufferable. The sooner we get some good bedrock under our feet again, the better.”

Aragorn just inclined his head with one lifted eyebrow, but said no more. Doubtlessly, with him having grown up amongst elves, his dreams had nothing but sweet and peaceful, leaving him nowhere near the turmoil his own soul was in. A small, cold knot formed in his stomach as he thought about facing her again, wondering if she would be able to read the dream in his eyes.

But face her, he had to, as they made their farewells down at the river. He wished nothing more than be able to avoid looking at her, but in the end, she stood before him.

“And what gift could a dwarf ask of the elves?”  
“Nothing.” He mumbled, wishing she would just leave him be. He had a dream to hide in his mind. “Except to look upon the lady of the Galadhrim one last time.” But she smiled at him, and it was as if something was forcing those words out of his mouth. “For she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth.” Then he turned to leave, but still...  
“Actually, there was one thing...” It was hard to look upon her smiling face and ask her for that what he had in mind. Because the smile she gave him was far too... knowing. 

“I hope your dreams have not troubled you, Master Dwarf,”she spoke softly as she handed him not only one, but three hairs of her golden head. “Sleeping beneath the trees of Lothlorien can wake all things that were hidden in a mind.”  
“What would you know about one’s dreams,” Gimli muttered, unable to meet her eyes.  
“Nothing,” she replied, a smile in her voice, and he dared look up again to see the smile radiate from her eyes, too. “Except if it was me who... took part in those.” 

And with these words, she left him standing there, the grip of his fingers clutching tighter and tighter around the three hairs wrapped in a leaf in his hand. 

_“Farewell, Gimli, son of Gloin. I hope you remember your visit as fondly as I will”_ , he heard her voice in his head. He looked upon her one last time, and she smiled. 

And finally, he dared smile back before he turned around and left Lothlorien and her behind forever.


End file.
